Barely getting a moment to turn and notice the senshi, Kafka cursed as some sort of mist spread and drifted around him.
"Quoi?!" Pulling his hand over his mouth in case it was some sort of magical poison, he waved at it until the area surrounding him seemed to fade away.
The dinged and dirty back alley was replaced with an extravagant home, full of paintings done not just by him but by Alexandre as well. It wasn't a cold home, empty and quiet. He could hear people laughing, and talking, and there was that warmth there that he really only started to understand came alongside more functional families.
But...
where was this?
How was this?
He had been in an alley drainign people even though he really didn't like one iota of this magical BS that that wonderfully angelic blond of his had pulled him into. He was only dealing with all this because he was beyond smitten by them. If all the fighting led to this though...
Maybe it
might be worth it to put some effort into it, though in the way he wanted to and not how it was supposed to go.
Pressing a hand to his forehead to try and figure out what was going on, he couldn't help but hope this was real, it was one of those wonderful stories he imagined during the droningly long days working in his shop. When he wasn't an alien of a different type anymore and there weren't all those strings of red tape he had to work around to stay here.